19 Standing My Ground
19 Chapter 19 Standing My Ground
Elena’s POV
The scent of home–cooked food filled our small apartment when Mom returned from her shift that evening. I had spent the afternoon preparing a proper meal with the mysterious groceries that had appeared while I was at work.
Her tired eyes widened as she stepped through the door. “Where did all this come from?”
I shrugged, stirring the pot on our ancient stove. “Someone left groceries on our doorstep. I have no clue who.”
Mom set down her purse and studied the spread I had managed to create. “You seriously don’t know who would do something like this? What if it’s contaminated?”
“I’ve been taste–testing all afternoon and I’m still standing,” I replied, ladling food onto plates. “Besides, whoever left this knew exactly what we needed.”
“Strange.” She washed her hands at the sink, her shoulders finally relaxing for the first time in days. “But I’m not complaining. I forgot how talented you are in the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” I said, setting our modest table.
We ate in comfortable silence, both of us too hungry and grateful to question our good fortune further. After Mom disappeared into the bathroom for her shower, I tackled the dishes without being asked. She spent all day cleaning up after others at the diner. The last thing she needed was more work when she came home.
The ancient hot water heater chose that moment to remind us of its age, leaving me with a frigid shower that had me shivering within seconds. I wrapped myself in every warm layer I could find and settled onto our sagging couch for the night, pulling the thin blanket up to my chin.
The next morning arrived gray and cold. I walked to the warehouse through streets that seemed more hostile than usual, my breath forming small clouds in the bitter air. The first delivery truck was already backing up to the loading dock when I clocked in.
Victor emerged from his office to sign off on the shipment, his presence commanding immediate attention from the crew. Instead of disappearing back into his paperwork like usual, he leaned against the brick wall and watched us work. His eyes seemed to
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track my movements more than anyone else’s.
“Looks like you’ve caught someone’s attention,” the woman muttered beside me as we sorted through boxes. “He’s never hung around to babysit new hires before.”
“He’s wasting his time,” I said, not looking up from my work.
“Maybe, maybe not.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Everyone knows your situation. Can you really afford to be picky? No one else is lining up to claim an omega like you. Might as well make the best of what’s available.”
I straightened slowly, my hands clenching into fists. “When I want your advice on my love life, I’ll ask for it. Until then, mind your own damn business.”
The warehouse went quiet around us. Her eyes narrowed, but I held my ground. I might be an omega, but I had survived worse than workplace gossip. The rogue attack that nearly killed me proved I could handle myself when push came to shove.
“Problem here?” Victor’s voice cut through the tension as he approached our
workstation.
The woman’s expression shifted into false innocence. “I don’t think so. Is there, Elena?”
“No problem at all,” I replied, never breaking eye contact with her.
Victor’s attention shifted to the woman, his tone dropping several degrees. “Then I suggest you focus on your job instead of running your mouth.”
She spun around and stalked back to her station, her face flushed with
embarrassment. I returned to sorting packages, hyperaware of Victor still standing nearby.
“You don’t have to tolerate that kind of harassment,” he said quietly. “If anyone gives you trouble, I want to know about it immediately.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I can handle myself,” I said.
His jaw tightened slightly. “The offer stands regardless.”
After my shift ended, I headed for the employee exit in the back alley. The woman waited there with two of her friends, their body language screaming confrontation.
“Aren’t we a little old for playground games?” I asked, stopping several feet away.
“Aren’t you a little too arrogant for someone in your position?” the woman shot back. “I might work the same job as you, but I still outrank you in this pack’s hierarchy.”
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“Do I look like I care about pack politics?”
Her friends shifted nervously behind her. “You should care. What if I march straight to the Alpha and tell him you’re showing disrespect to your betters?”
“Go ahead,” I said calmly.
“What?”
“You heard me. Don’t make threats you won’t follow through on.” I crossed my arms and stared her down. “If you think Alpha won’t be furious that you’re wasting his time with petty workplace drama, then make that call. Tell him I hurt your feelings.”
One of her friends tugged on her sleeve, shaking her head frantically. We all knew the Alpha had zero tolerance for trivial complaints. He would punish her for bothering him as much as he would punish me for the supposed disrespect.
“This isn’t over,” the woman snarled, but she was already backing down.
“It never is with people like you,” I replied, brushing past them toward the street. The cold evening air bit at my cheeks as I walked home, my mind already focused on what I might be able to make for dinner with whatever remained from yesterday’s mysterious delivery. The confrontation with the woman felt like just another obstacle in a life full of them. I had survived worse than a jealous coworker’s wounded pride.
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